by Kevin Ryan
her tips were averaging a bit higher in percentage.
The customers were all working people—local farm-
workers and factory workers commuting to Pueblo. At
home, Liz had learned that working people tipped better.
Before, she had thought that it might only be true in
Roswell, but Liz saw that it was true in Stonewall as well.
Maybe it's true everywhere, Liz thought.
Twenty minutes later, Liz watched the last breakfast
customer leave. As soon as the door closed, Bell said,
"Congratulations" to both Maria and Liz.
Liz found herself smiling and saw that Maria was doing
the same.
"How long did you two say you were going to be in
town?" Bell asked.
Liz shrugged. "A week or two," she said. She honestly
didn't know how long it would take them to earn enough
to get the van fixed and get moving.
"Well, I'll be sorry to see you go," Bell said.
"You'll find someone new by then," Liz said.
Just then, Jimmy was coming out of the kitchen, and
Liz saw his face drop. Liz cursed herself. She walked over
to Jimmy and said, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure
she'll be back."
Jimmy nodded and went back to work.
Then Maria was next to Liz and patting her arm.
* * *
* * *
"You girls deserve a break, if you want to sit down. And
have something to eat," Bell said, gesturing to a table.
"If it's okay, we'd like to order some food to take to our
friends before the lunch rush," Liz said.
"Sure, just tell Sam what you want," Bell said.
Then she shouted into the back, "Sam, keep the grill hot."
She and Maria conferred on the order, and Maria
brought it to Sam.
As soon as she left, Jimmy was next to Liz.
"Hi Jimmy," Liz said.
The boy was silent, but Liz could see that he wanted to
say something. Finally, he said, "They only take girls."
"What?" she said. Then she realized what he was say-
ing. "Who takes them, Jimmy? Do you know who took
your sister?"
Jimmy shook his head. "Why do they do that? Why do
you think they take girls?" he asked.
Liz felt the weight of what Jimmy was carrying for a
moment and she didn't need any special alien-powers to
see it. "I don't know, Jimmy," was all she could say.
"Sometimes they come back after a day or two. And
they're okay, mostly," he said. Then he added, "Jessica's
been gone for a week."
Almost instantly, Jimmy was on the verge of tears. Then
he was over the verge. Liz reached out with her hand and
touched his arm gently. The world shifted around her. She
wasn't in the diner anymore. She was in a room, except
room wasn't the right word for where she was.
Then there was screaming. A girl was screaming.
The scene changed, and Liz saw Jimmy standing in a
field. No, it wasn't a field. There were buildings.
* * *
Headstones. He was standing in a sea of headstones.
Leaning down, he placed a single white carnation in front
of one of the stones. Liz didn't just see him, she felt him—
felt what he was feeling. She felt the grief in her stomach.
It felt like someone was tearing out her insides.
Then she was back in the diner and Jimmy was looking
at her with concern. "Are you okay, Liz?" he asked.
Liz shook her head; the images were already receding,
but not the knot in her stomach.
"You remembered something, didn't you?" he asked.
"Remembered?" she said.
"You remember things too. Things that haven't hap-
pened yet," he said.
He said it evenly, matter-of-factly, as if he already knew.
- "Yes," she found herself saying. "Do you remember things,
Jimmy? Is that how you knew I was going to spill the sugar?"
He nodded. "But I try not to talk about it. It makes people
nervous," he said. "Did you see Jessica?" he asked.
"No," Liz said quickly, hating to lie to his open and
trusting face. Yet it was a kindness, she knew. No doubt he
had seen that she had remembered something bad.
"Okay," he said.
"Jimmy, Sam needs you in the back," Bell said from
behind the counter.
"Okay," Jimmy said, and he was off.
"Come on, Parker," Maria said from behind her.
Liz turned to face her friend, and Maria immediately
saw something in her face. "What is it?" Maria asked.
Liz shook her head. "Nothing, I'm just tired."
"Liar," Maria said, sitting down and putting the bags of
to-go food down on the table.
* * *
"I had another flash," Liz admitted. "I'm not even really
sure what I saw."
Maria's hand reached out for hers.
"It's okay, really. I'm sure it was nothing. Just spooked
me. It's the first one I've had since yesterday. I don't even
really know what it was," she said.
Her friend eyed her carefully for a moment and said,
"Come on, we'll deliver this food and walk it off."
Liz shook her head. "I'd rather just sit down for a few
minutes," she said. The truth was that she knew she would
be able to hide from Max even less than she was able to
hide from Maria.
She didn't want to answer any questions right now.
"Okay, I'll do it," Maria said. She got up and grabbed
the food. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," Liz said, mustering a smile.
When the door closed behind Maria a few seconds
later, Liz found that the knot in her stomach had not sub-
sided a bit.
Who was that guy in Greek myths? He was cursed to see the
future and be powerless to stop it, she thought.
Well, Liz was sure she had seen the future. And she was
equally certain that Jimmy's sister was going to die, and
soon.
* * *
9
Kyle walked around the front of the garage and saw Dan
coming out of the office. "I'm ready to go," Kyle said.
Dan nodded and said, "Okay, go to the office and
punch in, then I need you to pull the transmission on the
Plymouth. You can do that?"
"Sure," Kyle said. "And I can drop the new one in."
"We'll have it this morning," Dan said.
"Look," Kyle said before Dan could turn and head for
the garage, "I want to thank you for letting us use the room
in the back, and for breakfast. My friends and I really
appreciate it."
Dan just looked at him and nodded. "You and your
friends can stay there as long as everybody behaves them-
selves and you don't wreck the place."
Then, without another word, Dan turned and headed
for the garage.
Kyle walked around to the office and found it occupied.
The girl behind the desk smiled and said, "Hi, my name
is Dawn."
* * *
For a second, Kyle was too surprised to respond. He
had expected the office to be empty.
"You must be Kyle," she said, holding out her hand.
Kyle shook it and smiled, "Nice to meet you, Dawn."
It was nice to meet her. Kyle guessed she was about his
age, maybe a little older. She was definitely pretty. She had
shoulder-length blond hair that curled at the ends. She
also had a nice smile.
And she smelled great.
Suddenly Kyle was keenly aware of how long it had
been since he had last had a date.
"Here," she said, holding out a time card with his name
printed out in a neat, female handwriting.
Definitely way too long, Kyle thought. And Buddha's Mid-
dle Way teaches us to avoid extreme forms of self-denial.
Kyle decided that a week or two in Stonewall wouldn't
be so bad after all.
Taking the time card, he ran it under the clock, which
stamped it with the time. Then he put it on a rack on the wall,
a rack that held a time card for Dawn and another for Gomer.
"Have you been working for Dan long?" Kyle asked.
Dawn shook her head and said, "No, and I'm just part
time. I'm getting his office in order."
She gestured to the computer on the desk in front of
her and said, "I'm also trying to get Dan set up on the
Internet. He rebuilds radios on old cars, but he's hopeless
on the computer, and he needs a Web site."
She tutted gently and said, "Sorry to say that I'm not
much better."
"Well, maybe I could help," Kyle said. Actually, he
* * *
wasn't sure that he could. He was okay on the computer,
* * *
but he didn't know much about Internet programming.
Too late, though. He'd already offered. Maybe Liz could
talk him through a few things. And it would help him get
to know Dawn a little better.
"Can I help you?" a stern voice said behind Kyle.
Turning, he saw Gomer standing in the doorway.
"What?" Kyle said.
"What do you need, partner?" Gomer said. He looked
bigger than Kyle had remembered from yesterday. Or was
it just that Kyle was closer to him today?
In any case, there was no mistaking the menace in his voice.
"Is this guy bothering you, Dawn?" Gomer said.
"Just calm down, Gomer," Dawn said. "This is Kyle.
He's working for Dan."
Kyle mustered a friendly smile and said, "Hi, I'm Kyle.
You-towed our van yesterday."
Then Kyle could see that Gomer recognized him. How-
ever, his sour expression didn't get any friendlier. Kyle
held out his hand.
Gomer ignored him and spoke to Dawn. "I've got the
tranny. Any tow calls?"
"No," Dawn said, "but Dan might need you to go to
Pueblo for some parts. You can talk to him."
Gomer shot Kyle a dirty look and headed out the door.
"Well. . . ," Kyle said.
"Oh, don't mind Gomer," Dawn said.
"Is he your ... are you two . . . ?" Kyle asked.
Dawn shook her head and said, "No, but he acts like it
sometimes."
Then she smiled that smile at him. "I'm happy to say
that I'm a free agent."
* * *
"Okay, then," Kyle said. "I'd better get to work."
"See you later, Kyle," Dawn said as he left the office.
Dan and Gomer were talking when Kyle came into the
shop area.
"Kyle, grab the lift from out back and pull the transmis-
sion out of the pickup," Dan said. "Gomer will give you a
hand with it."
Kyle headed across the shop floor to the back door. Out-
side, he saw more junked cars and the Volkswagen van that
Gomer had mentioned the day before. The van was in bad
shape. One look told Kyle it would probably never run
again. The back was smashed in pretty well, and it just
wouldn't pay to do the extensive bodywork on a car that old.
It was also rusted out along the bottom.
The most remarkable thing about the van was the classic
sixties hippie paint job: psychedelic colors swirling around
large peace signs painted on the front and the drivers side.
Clearly the work had been done by hand, but someone had
done a pretty good job. The colors were faded and mixed
with a good deal of rust, but Kyle found it easy to imagine
how the van must have looked years ago.
What he couldn't imagine was Dan driving it, ever.
Aside from the long hair in a ponytail, Dan looked like an
average, slightly grouchy, middle-aged guy.
Kyle wanted to get to work, but he figured he had time
for a quick check under the hood. It took him some doing
to get the hood open, but he saw that the engine was pretty
much intact. Then he saw the crack in the engine block.
That was it; the engine would never start again. However,
that didn't mean that the timing chain wouldn't still be
good, but he would have to take the engine apart to be sure.
* * *
He would have to remember to talk to Dan about that
later. Now he had work to do. The transmission lift was a
platform on wheels that had two U-shaped cradles that
held the front and the back of a transmission. Because
transmissions were roughly cone shaped, one of the cradles
was larger than the other.
Grabbing the lift, Kyle wheeled it around to the front of
the garage, where Gomer waited by an old pickup that was
marked JOHNNY'S GARAGE. In the back of the pickup, Kyle
could see the transmission. He lowered the tailgate on the
truck and raised the lift into place using the crank on the
side. Later he would lower it and use the lift to set the
transmission into place under the car.
Leaning into the pickup, he said to Gomer, "Would you
give me a hand with this?"
Gomer lit a cigarette and looked past Kyle down the road.
"Gomer?" Kyle said.
The older man didn't even look in his direction.
"Would you give me a hand with this, please?" Kyle
said. When Gomer continued to ignore him, Kyle raised
his voice and said, "Hey Gomer!"
Gomer finally looked his way and said coolly, "I figure
that you are such a hot mechanic that you don't need help."
Then Gomer took a drag off his cigarette and blew the
smoke in Kyle's direction. "You got a problem with that?"
His voice was even, but Kyle could hear the menace there
just the same.
In his football days, Kyle would not have hesitated to
meet that challenge, even though Gomer had a good six
inches and thirty pounds on him. And he more than likely
would have given Gomer a surprise. But that was before
* * *
he had found out the truth about Max and the others,
before he had found Buddha.
Kyle felt blood rushing to his face and forced himself to
keep steady.
"What do you say, Mr. Mechanic?" Gomer said, throw-
ing his cigarette down and holding his hands out.
Maybe it's time to put Buddha on hold, Kyle thought,
clenching his own fists.
And he might have used them, too, but he remembered
his friends. The last thing they all needed was the added
attention that a fight would bring—even if Kyle w
on. Still,
the urge to knock that smirk off Gomer's face was strong.
Kyle forced a smile of his own and said, "Sorry, maybe
another time. I've got work to do."
Kyle caught Gomer's disappointed expression out of the
corner of his eye as he wrestled with the transmission. He
slid it toward the tailgate and took a deep breath. Though
one person could lift one by himself, moving a transmission
was really a two-person job. One person risked dropping it.
In one heave, Kyle lifted it, swung it a few feet over, and
then lowered it into the cradles. He was relieved when the
clang of metal on metal told him it was in place. He half
expected Gomer to make a move on him, and Kyle was
relieved when the other man just stood there.
By the time he reached the garage door, he found him-
self relaxing and smiling at how quickly Gomer had
almost baited him. Buddha would not be pleased, Kyle-
thought. And neither would Max.
Before he pushed the rig inside, Kyle couldn't resist giving
Gomer a wave and saying, "You have a nice day now."
Smiling at Gomer's stunned expression, Kyle pushed
* * *
the transmission into the garage. He used the hydraulic lift
to raise the car about two feet, then he got underneath to
drop the old transmission. For a few minutes, everything
melted away. He was doing something he knew he could
do well. And he was the only one of the guys in their
group who had found a job.
Plus, there was something Zen about auto repair. His first
introduction to Buddhism had come from a copy of a book
called Zen and the Art oj Motorcycle Maintenance that he had
found at football camp.
At first, he thought it was a joke, but the book had
turned about to be serious. He read it cover to cover, and
Kyle had never been much of a reader. Then, he had gone
to the library to get more books on Buddhism. The next
thing he knew, he was trying to walk the Middle Path. It
had been almost as big a change for him as learning the
truth about the aliens in his town.
Now he found the work relaxing him. His almost-
confrontation with Gomer was forgotten, as was the fact